


Shadow Pt. I

by Sierra_Butterfly



Series: Shadow [1]
Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: Camille Babineaux (Mother), F/F, F/M, Jay Babineaux (Brother), Justin Babineaux (Father), Serena Babineaux (Sister)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-08 07:58:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra_Butterfly/pseuds/Sierra_Butterfly
Summary: Two months ago, Clive agreed to let his little sister stay with him for a week, but in the aftermath of discovering zombies and breaking into Max Rager’s secret lab he completely forgot about it. That is, until he gets a phone call from his sister asking for a ride from the airport.OrSerena Babineaux plots to get Clive and Liv together, in all her pre-teen angst and glory.





	1. K.I.S.S.I.N.G

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at that point in semester where I'm just counting down to finals, so I have more time than I know what to do with (con of being a student worker and not being able to work more than 30 hrs/week while enrolled in classes). As such, here's another Clive/Liv 'fic. 
> 
> This is a multi-chapter 'fic that has three parts. Part One has five chapters, and since I'm editing Chapter Five now, I expect to have the full story posted in a couple weeks. Part Two and Three are slightly longer and I'm currently writing them. 
> 
> Please note, I have marked this story with "underage" themes because Clive's sister is a pre-teen and is experimenting with various things, including relationships and alcohol. There is mention of her relationships and associated actions, but I will not include details. Also, I have zero experience with pre-teen girls outside of when I was one. I haven't interacted with that age group since then, and my memory is a little spotty on what it was like...So feel free to point out whether her behavior seems fitting for her age. Or anything else for that matter. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy :)

Clive staggered from his couch to the kitchen, setting his glass on the granite countertop a bit harder than he meant to. Despite the coherent part of his brain that told him he should cut himself off before he did something he would regret in the morning--like send another text message to Dale--the greater part of his brain appreciated the buzz of alcohol through his veins. It served as a balm against the knowledge of zombies and betrayal of learning Liv was one, facts he’d learned a little over twenty-four hours ago. 

But it would take even more alcohol to unravel the ball of pain in his chest that had taken residence since this morning, when he hadn’t been able to explain why he sabotaged their cases. When Dale had left because he wasn’t willing to tell her about zombies.

_She wouldn’t have believed me anyways_. Not without some kind of proof, and he wasn’t about to ask Liv to stab herself to prove it to Dale. He wasn’t even sure he wanted Dale to know--she would be safer in Virginia, wouldn’t she?

He poured himself another glass of whiskey. 

And then his phone rang. 

_Who the hell is calling me this late?_ he wondered absently. He wasn’t on-call, so it shouldn’t be case-related, and as far as he knew, his friends--were they still his friends?--were busy. 

And he knew better than to expect a phone call from _her._

With a small sigh, he pulled out his phone and answered on the last ring, “Babineaux.” 

“Clive! I wasn’t sure if you’d answer this late.” 

Clive silently cursed himself for not checking the caller ID. “Mom,” he said, wincing internally at the slight slur of that one word. “How’ve you been?” he asked as he maneuvered the phone so it was pressed between his ear and shoulder, freeing his hands so he could get a glass of water from the tap. He sipped it slowly, knowing it was for naught but stubbornly attempting to dilute his state of drunkenness all the same.

“Are you drinking, honey?” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned against the kitchen bar. Guilt stabbed through his chest. “I’m at home,” he told her, clearing his throat to eliminate some of the throatiness of his voice. 

Ever since his uncle died in a drunk driving accident his mother was terrified any time her children drank alcohol, or drove, or did much of anything that put their lives in danger. Needless to say, Clive’s choice in profession was a point of contention between them, so he refrained from drinking when he knew she was going to call him. 

Speaking of, “Mom, why are you calling so late?” A flicker of fear made his heart thrum harder against his sternum. Had something happened? Clive glanced at the neon green numbers on the stove display; it was midnight here in Seattle, so it was three in the morning in Brooklyn. 

“Your dad just got in from a late flight,” she explained, and Clive relaxed a bit. His mother usually stayed up when his father was expecting to get home late, especially since she’d retired from Hunter College a couple years ago. “Plus you didn’t answer my call this morning, so I thought you might be on strange hours.” 

Clive finished the glass of water and repressed the temptation to apologize. His mother had called an hour after Dale had left his apartment, and at the time he just hadn’t had the energy to talk to anyone unless he had to--particularly his mother, who would have undoubtedly known something was amiss. 

“Anyways, I don’t want to keep you for too long, but your dad and I are going on a cruise in a couple months to celebrate his retirement, and I promised your sister I would check with you.” She paused long enough to take a breath and Clive smiled at the excitement in her voice. “Serena really wants to see you so we were wondering if she could stay with you while we’re on the cruise? It would only be for a week, and she _could_ stay with Jay but you know she gets to see him all the time, and it’s been nearly a year since our schedules worked out well enough--”

“Mom,” Clive interrupted, chuckling. “I’m fine with that. I miss my little Shadow.” 

“Thank you so much! Does October 20th work?”

“I’ll make it work,” he promised, his chest feeling a bit lighter at the thought of having his little sister in town. He missed his family--all of them--but he’d always been close with Serena. Even if most days it terrified him that she wanted to follow his footsteps. 

“Oh she’s going to be so excited. But I should let you go. I’ll talk to you Sunday.” 

The call disconnected, and Clive got another glass of water before heading to the couch to watch some TV.

***

_October 20th_

“So are you going as a clown or a zombie?” Liv asked, quietly snickering in the passenger seat of the unmarked police car.

Clive glared half-heartedly. He should have known better than making a bet on the outcome of this case, but he had been positive going into it that the wife had killed her husband. After all, it was almost always the spouse. “Neither,” he said, checking the rearview mirror before pulling out into the slow lull of suburban traffic.

“Come on, I’m even giving you a choice,” she teased. “What about a butcher? Ooh, you could even wear a pig head mask!” 

He couldn’t help it, he laughed.

“I’m taking pity on you,” Liv pointed out, “I could make you dress up as a ballerina.” 

“Cavanaugh would have a field day with that,” Clive said with a small smirk as he tossed around ideas in his head. He had never been a fan of haunted houses--largely because they almost always included zombies, and until recently, he’d been terrified of the undead--but he’d been playing with the idea of going anyways. Liv did well hiding it, but he saw the sad look in her eyes when anyone mentioned Halloween. Based on something Ravi had mentioned a few weeks ago, he suspected it had to do with her family, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. 

He started to ask what she was going as when his phone rang, and he answered with a sigh, “Babineaux.” 

“Where are you at? Mom said you were going to pick me up at the airport.” 

_Oh hell._ His stomach sank, but his answer was immediate, “Sorry, Sis, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I was late getting out of the station.”

He could practically hear Serena roll her eyes. “It’s fine, I’m by the baggage claims.” 

“Stay there,” he told her, glancing at the time on the dashboard. Luckily for him, fifteen minutes was a relatively accurate timeframe. “I’ll call again when I’m in the pick up line.” 

“Okay, bye.”

The call disconnected and Clive cursed under his breath. When had he agreed to watch Serena? How long was she down for? 

_There’s no way Devore will let me off work tomorrow. Friday and Saturday? Maybe._

And then the memory came back to him. His parents were on a cruise; his mother had called him while he was drinking, but he’d only had a couple glasses before talking to his mom. That wasn’t enough to make him forget the conversation. 

No, what made him forget was the stress of everything going on at the time--he might have remembered if the surprises had stopped with the discovery of zombies and Dale breaking up with him, but the night after talking to his mother they broke into Max Rager’s secret lab. And then a month later Wally and his family were shot--a case that was still ongoing. 

“Clive? What’s going on?” Liv asked, and he considered the concern staring back at him. 

In place of an answer, he sighed. “Do you mind riding along to the airport?” 

Liv agreed with a small shrug; informing Ms. Clancy that they had identified and arrested her husband’s murderer was the last thing she had to do that day. “Who are we picking up?”

He glanced at her, chewing his lower lip. “My little sister,” he said finally, turning his attention back to the road as he pulled onto the interstate. “I forgot I agreed to watch her.” 

_I need to talk to Devore--she’ll have my ass for this_. Clive handed his phone to Liv, “Would you dial Devore?” he asked, leaning forward slightly as he checked his blind spot, then moved into the fast lane. 

A moment later Liv handed him the phone and he drew his lower lip between his teeth, still contemplating whether to tell his Lieutenant the truth or just ask for time off. Either way he’d hear about it tomorrow. 

“Devore,” she answered. 

Clive passed a semi-truck and moved back to the right lane. “It’s Babineaux,” he paused, clenched the steering wheel a bit tighter, “I need to take a couple personal days on Friday and Saturday.” 

“Why?” Devore asked, sounding surprisingly open to the idea. 

“My little sister is in town; she’s staying with me,” and before his Lieutenant could ask, “I forgot that I agreed to watch her.” 

For a moment, Devore said nothing, though he could hear the shuffling of papers in the background. Then, “Fine, you can have Friday and Saturday off. You’ve got court tomorrow though.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” the call disconnected, and Clive settled back, watching the exit signs while his mind raced with “how to’s” and “what ifs.”

Clive refused to leave Serena alone at his apartment--he would have been hesitant to before he knew about zombies, but now that they knew D-Day was coming and Fillmore Graves wasn’t being completely forthcoming with their plans, there was no way in hell he was risking it. That being said, he had court tomorrow. At a minimum he would be busy for a couple hours, but it was more likely that he would be waiting around for hours, possibly even the better part of the day. 

He could bring Serena with him, but he felt guilty enough forgetting that she was coming to stay with him; he didn’t want her stuck in a courthouse all day. 

And then there were the less likely possibilities. Like ‘what if Serena found out about zombies,’ or ‘what if Serena _became_ a zombie?’ 

“Clive?” 

He blinked, flicked his attention to Liv, then cursed under his breath again when he realized too late that he missed their exit. 

“Your sister will be fine.” 

He offered a strained smile. 

“You have to testify tomorrow, right?” He nodded. “Your sister can hang out with me--”

“No offense, but I’m not letting my twelve year old sister hang out in a morgue.” 

Liv rolled her eyes. “Tomorrow’s my day off. Ravi did the autopsy, so I don’t have to testify.” 

His hesitance was short lived. “It should only be for a few hours. I haven’t taken any time off in months, so once I’m done testifying I should be free.” 

“It’s fine. We can order a pizza and I’ll bring over my dance game.” 

He smirked. “If you’re bringing games, bring some of Ravi’s as well.” Unless his sister had changed drastically in the past year, he doubted she would be willing to play Just Dance.

They pulled into the pick-up line and Clive dialed Serena’s number again, then got out of the car, waiting. 

Five minutes later he spotted a girl that bore some resemblance to his sister and he paused, a small frown twisting his lips as he considered her. Per Serena’s typical style, she was wearing black skinny jeans and a leather jacket just a few shades lighter than his own, but now bold makeup made it difficult to tell just how young she was. 

Thick eye-liner and eyeshadow made her eyes seem larger than they were, while bright pink lipstick drew attention to a silver septum piercing. But the differences went beyond the makeup and piercing--while just a year ago she had proudly worn her hair as a curly fro, it was now flat-ironed so it lay straight, falling just below her shoulders. 

_Is she taller than me?_ he wondered as he shook off the shock of how much his sister had changed over the course of the year. By now she noticed him and jogged over, pulling her suitcase behind her. Once she was a couple feet away she launched herself at him, causing him to stagger back slightly as he wrapped his arms tight around her, huffing out a laugh. “I missed you, kiddo.” 

He pulled back long enough to put Serena’s suitcase in the backseat, and when he turned back around his sister was attempting to watch Liv inconspicuously. “Who’s the girl?” Serena asked with a grin, then pitched her voice lower. “Did you arrest her on your way?” 

Clive smirked. “Get in the car,” he told her, getting back in the driver’s seat. Absently, he waved at the impatient driver behind him, instead turning in his seat. “Serena, this is Liv. She’s a medical examiner at the station.” 

He noted his sister’s rueful look and repressed a laugh. Despite all his concerns with her visiting, he felt lighter with his sister around. She reminded him of a time when things were far simpler; before he went undercover, and before he learned about zombies. “You didn’t tell Mom and Dad that you were dating someone,” Serena said and Liv made a small sound that bordered on surprise and denial.

“We’re not dating,” he said, but Serena was ruthless. 

“Clive and Liv, sitting in a tree--”

“Don’t make me put up the barrier,” Clive warned, but he was too happy to see her to put any seriousness in his threat. 

“K.I.S.S--”

“Hey Serena,” Liv interrupted his sister, and Clive glanced at her, noting the mischief in her tone with a flicker of dread. “You probably have tons of embarrassing stories about Clive.” 

“I-” Clive started to interrupt, but he knew the moment Liv had suggested it that Serena would show no mercy. 

“Care to share?” 

And Serena was all too willing to oblige.

***

It was only a twenty-five minute drive to Liv’s car, but at least twenty minutes of it Clive’s face felt far too warm, and despite his best efforts to tune out Serena’s stories, it proved virtually impossible. Every time Liv stifled another laugh, presumably attempting to spare him some embarrassment, he listened just long enough to get the gist of the story, then focused on the traffic, cringing internally as Serena shared stories that she could only know through Jay.

“I blame you if I have to find a new partner,” Clive said, quirking a brow as he pulled back onto the road. 

“She’ll be back,” she said with a small shrug. “I approve of her, by the way.” 

Clive rolled his eyes. “Well good. You’re spending a few hours with her tomorrow while I’m testifying in court. After that, I’m yours.”

Serena pursed her lips. “You know I don’t need a babysitter,” she pointed out. 

“I know,” he admitted, “Just let your brother be overprotective, huh?”

“Fine,” Serena grinned. “So you’re really not dating her?”

“She’s just a good friend,” he confirmed. 

“Well I think she likes you.”

Clive smirked. Serena had definitely changed in the year since he’d seen her, but her quick wit and commentary hadn’t faded in the slightest. “And when did you become a relationship guru?”

“Since I watched her watch you the entire drive back.” Serena’s smile widened. “And I think you’re interested too.”

He laughed. “Alright, Shadow, why don’t you use your detective skills for something else.”

“Like what?”

“Guess where we’re going for dinner.”

Serena sat up a bit straighter, and Clive could practically feel the excitement radiate from her. “Are we going to China Palace?”

Clive’s grin served as her answer.


	2. We're a Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter :) 
> 
> In the future I may go through the entire story and make some minor revisions (remove the dozens of sighed, smirked, grinned, smiled, etc.), but honestly right now I'm more interested in just getting the story down and meeting my personal deadlines. 
> 
> I also have a list of twenty-something Clive/Liv ideas that I'm idly working my way through, but if anyone has any prompts that they have in mind, I'd be happy to work with pretty much anything. I'm hoping that with Season 4 the love for this pairing increases.

**Chapter Two**

The next morning Clive was ready to leave before Serena was even out of bed, which served him just fine. As much as he loved his sister, he had forgotten how intense she could be when she put her mind to something, and her current fixation seemed to be getting him and Liv together. 

_She’s closer to the truth that I’d like,_ but Clive pushed that thought to the back of his mind, the same way he did with any thoughts that neared that dangerous slope--the slope where he admitted to himself that his feelings for Liv weren’t totally platonic. The slope where he inevitably lost one of his closest friends. 

He shook his head and took a long drink from his coffee, uncaring as the hot liquid scalded the back of his throat, leaving a warm trail through his chest. 

If he were honest with himself, he was impressed by Serena’s investigative skills. When she’d asked him what Liv’s full name was, he’d expected her to do some digging, but he’d never expected the results that she’d come up with. 

Videos from undergrad. An oral presentation at a conference for medical school students. And of course various social media accounts: Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn--even an AO3 account. But when Serena pulled up a photo of Liv streaking with a group of men and women, he’d shut down Operation Investigate Liv, suddenly wondering what else his partner may have done while on one brain or another. 

He’d forced himself to go to bed shortly afterwards, or else he may have given into the temptation to continue where Serena had left off. Even now, he wondered whether he would have turned up anything more than his sister had. 

_Hopefully Serena actually stopped_ , but Clive gave it a fifty-fifty odds on whether Serena continued after he’d gone to bed. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had been up until one or two in the morning continuing her investigation, and if that was the case, she would be in bed until ten at least. 

_At least she already told Liv the more embarrassing stories_ , although maybe it would have been better if Serena had waited until today. At least then Clive wouldn’t know for sure what stories Liv knew. 

A familiar knock on the door drew his attention and Clive went to let Liv in. The moment he opened the door he was faced with an out of breath Liv Moore. “Sorry,” she panted. “Peyton’s car broke down, and I forgot to tell her I was watching your sister, so she took my car.” 

Clive arched a brow, stepping aside so she could come in. “So you ran here?” 

Liv huffed a breath. “Not exactly, I took the bus halfway here, then _that_ broke down.” 

“So you ran halfway here,” Clive clarified with a small smirk. 

“Yep.” 

He shook his head, considering his partner. “You know I could have picked you up, right?” 

“Good to know,” she said, slowly rising from her doubled over position and stretching. “Oh well, now I’m awake.” 

Clive shook his head, snorting as he followed Liv to his kitchen. “That one’s yours,” he said, gesturing to the larger of the two coffee cups. When he’d stepped out earlier he’d gotten a small coffee for Serena as well, though he doubted she would drink it, even if she woke up before it got cold. 

“Thanks,” Liv said, immediately picking up the cup and holding it between her hands with a contented smile. When she took a sip she hummed in appreciation, then almost reluctantly, she set the cup back down and pulled a tube of brain mush from her purse, slipping it in his freezer. 

He watched and repressed a groan. “I already have five bottles of hot sauce in my fridge. I better not come home one night to a brain in my freezer.”

Liv rolled her eyes. “We don’t have a case so I’m eating gogurt style.” She returned to her cup of coffee and leaned against the countertop. “It’s snowing, by the way.”

He frowned. “Really?” It hadn’t been snowing early, but when he wandered to the window and pulled back the curtain, he found thick flakes had already dusted the ground in white. 

Clive puffed out his cheeks and went to retrieve another jacket. When he came out of his room he found Liv sitting on the couch, bare feet tucked beneath her with her hands still cupped around her coffee. “I should be back by three, at the latest.”

“Mkay,” Liv sipped her coffee, covering a yawn with the back of her hand. “I’ll send a couple texts throughout the day to let you know Serena’s alive and well.” Clive opened his mouth to say that wasn’t necessary, but Liv fixed him with a knowing look. “You’re overprotective,” she grinned. “It’s sweet.”

Rather than protest, he sighed. He was just thankful that Liv didn’t take his overprotectiveness personal. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” 

***

The courtroom had been dismissed for a second recess, and Clive found himself pacing in the hallways. He had never been a big fan of trials; his job was to piece together all the evidence and give the prosecutor a case--unfortunately, his job was also to spend large fractions of his day sitting around waiting for someone to call him to the stand, after which he was usually good to go home. Or back to the station. 

“Hey,” Clive paused, glancing up to see Cavanaugh striding toward him, an arrogant smirk plastered to his face. “So what’s this I hear about a mini Babineaux in town?” 

“Devore tell you?” Clive asked, raising a brow. When Liv had eaten [insert gossip woman’s name] brain and started speculating about Cavanaugh and Devore, he had brushed it off as an effect of the brain, but as the weeks had gone on it seemed Cavanaugh knew more than he should, even as a senior detective. 

Cavanaugh shrugged, neglecting to offer an actual answer. “Do we get to meet her?”

_Why do you care so much?_ Clive thought, but he shoved down the suspicion as quickly as it came up. Trials made him antsy and put him on edge, and they were among the few instances that the ‘suspect everyone’ mentality rose with a vengeance. “Probably,” he answered after a moment, the corners of his lips quirking up. “She’s my little Shadow. I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t show her the station.” 

His fellow detective chuckled. “Well it’s good to see you happy.” Surprise made him blink, and Cavanaugh rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, we bust your balls because you’re the newest rank. We still care.” 

Clive snorted and started to say something when his phone buzzed in his pocket. While he checked his phone, Cavanaugh wandered off, apparently having said everything he wanted to.

11:02 AM, Liv: _Serena is good, she’s still asleep. Can I ransack your cabinets for baking supplies? ___ _ ___

__He repressed a groan. If Serena was still asleep, then she had definitely stayed up digging for more information on Liv._ _

__He should talk to her about privacy, but he was a little too proud of her skill to effectively lecture her. Besides, he was never the one for disciplining her; he was the one that would keep her out of big trouble and give her hell for whatever she’d done later._ _

__And then there was the part of him that knew she would end up sharing what she found with him, and he was a little too curious for his own good._ _

__11:05 AM, Clive: _Sure.__ _

__11:06 AM, Liv: _Thanks, Spanky.__ _

__Clive laughed under his breath and shook his head. That sister of his was going to get him in a world of trouble._ _

__11:07 AM, Clive: _If you never call me that again._ _ _

__11:07 AM, Liv: _Fair enough. I’m sure your little sis will give me more content ;)__ _

__He had no doubt about that._ _

____

***

Liv heard the shower turn on and smiled to herself, glancing at the time on the stove display. It was nearly one, and already Liv had made a mess of Clive’s kitchen. Flour and sugar were sprinkled all over the countertops, while aluminum foil covered the almost every bare surface. At least two hundred cookies were cooling, ranging from peanut butter and chocolate chip to oatmeal cookies.

Fortunately for her and for Clive’s kitchen, she was almost out of dough. 

The timer on her phone went off and Liv grabbed the oven mitt, taking out yet another baking sheet of cookies and setting it on the stovetop. She put the second baking sheet in the oven, started her timer again, and turned around just in time to see Serena dragging her feet across the living room. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Liv grinned and Serena grumbled something incoherent. Leaving the pre-teen to collapse onto one of the barstools, Liv turned her attention to her phone, shooting Clive a quick message. 

12:47 PM, Liv: _Serena’s awake finally._

She waited a minute before putting her phone back down, figuring court was in session. “Late night?” she asked, arching a brow at Serena. If Liv didn’t know better, she would have put money on the girl being hungover, but there was no way in hell Clive would have allowed his little sister to drink. 

“Yeah,” Serena said, sitting up a bit straighter as she picked up one of the freshly baked cookies. “You need better privacy settings.” 

Liv leaned against the countertop and arched a brow. “And you know that how?” 

The girl smiled conspiratorially, while Liv struggled to keep a serious expression. “Well I had to do research if I’m going to get you and my brother to go out.” 

Liv rolled her eyes, turning her back to deal with the next batch of cookies. Using a teflon spatula she carefully removed the cooled cookies from the sheet, finding empty spaces on the aluminum foil to let them cool some more. While she worked, she studied Serena. “So why do you think we should date?” Liv asked after a moment. 

Serena’s expression grew contemplative, and evidence that despite her youthful insistence she was a perceptive young woman flashed in her eyes. “You make him happy,” she said softly, chewing her chocolate chip cookie slowly. “He didn’t want us to know the details of his undercover work, but a couple years ago we got a phone call from a woman at the station--I think she said her name was Devore. She was worried about him. She said that he was in too deep.”

Liv caught the girl’s gaze and her heart broke. “He cut us off for awhile. Stopped answering our calls; I was the only one he’d talk to. And then he’d just tell me not to go into law enforcement.” The sorrow in her face dissolved a bit and she smiled. “Then Devore called us again and told us Clive was a homicide detective now. And then he met you, and he’d mention you sometimes when we talked. Then he mentioned Ravi. Peyton. Major. He has friends again, but it started because of you.” 

Liv was smiling to herself as she finished up with the cookies, despite the sorrow that coiled low in her belly. If Clive knew how close his sister paid attention to him--if he knew how aware she was about his well-being all those years, it would kill him. “You’re a good sister, Serena.” 

“And you’d be a good girlfriend for him.” 

Liv laughed. “And why can’t we just be friends?” 

Serena quirked a brow, fixing Liv with a _Do I really have to spell it out_ look. “It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re interested.” 

“I don’t know--”

“Midnight Rose.” 

Liv froze, and if she were still alive her cheeks would have been flaming red. After a moment of raw panic, she swallowed her horror and started cleaning up her baking mess. “Please tell me you didn’t read that.” _Clive is going to kill me._ Hell, maybe Liv would kill herself to save herself the mortification. _How’d she even find that?_ Liv would have expected that level of skill from someone in their tech department, but not from a twelve year old girl.

Midnight Rose. It was a story on her Fictionpress account; an account containing her more explicit stories. Stories that she had written while on the erotica-writing librarian’s brain. 

Serena’s nose wrinkled. “Of course not. I read the first few paragraphs and it was pretty obvious who the characters were based off of.” 

Liv sighed. There was no way for her to possibly explain that away; she doubted Clive wanted his little sister knowing about zombies, and even then, it wasn’t as though Liv was totally controlled by whatever brain she’d eaten most recently. While the desire to write those types of stories had been borne through the brain, Liv would be lying if she said her selection of characters was brain-induced.

She thought she knew the answer, but she needed to know anyways, “Does Clive know?” He hadn’t acted weird with her that morning, but Liv had been a bit out of breath from running, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d put something awkward to the back burner while dealing with something more pressing. 

“Nope.” 

Liv wanted to ask whether Serena planned on telling him, but another part of her was afraid of the answer and preferred pretending at least for the rest of the day that Clive would never find out. 

Instead of dwelling on it, she took a page out of Clive’s book and pushed the fear to the back of her mind, putting a hand on her hip. “If you keep eating those you’ll regret it later.” 

Serena smirked. “I’ve got the Babineaux metabolism. I’m good.” 

Liv grinned and shook her head. Serena Babineaux underestimated just how much sugar was in those cookies--Liv would put money on the girl crashing before 9 PM.

***

3:45 PM, Liv: _Your sister is going to be the death of me._

Clive looked down at his phone and feigned a cough to conceal a laugh. Even though court was adjourned and the verdict had been reached ten minutes ago, the lull of people leaving the courtroom left him trapped between an officer he’d never met before and a grey haired woman with a walker.

3:47 PM, Clive: _Are you staying for dinner?_

His stomach growled at the prospect of food. Although there had been a lunch recess, Clive had been too antsy to eat at the time--courtesy of a text from his little sister, containing a link for something called Midnight Rose, along with the note ‘something your future girlfriend wrote.’ 

At the time he’d barely repressed the temptation to click the link, but something told him not to. If nothing else, he didn’t need to be distracted while he was in the stand, and he had a feeling that whatever Midnight Rose was, it would leave him exactly that. 

3:50 PM, Liv: _Serena is begging me to._

He smirked. If he had to guess, Serena was sitting there looking over Liv’s shoulder. 

3:51 PM, Clive: _I was thinking about picking up a couple pizzas. What do you guys want?_

Another message buzzed on his phone, from Serena, and he opened it warily. 

3:52 PM, Shadow: _Cheese and Pepperoni! Please!!_

3:53 PM, Clive: _Alright, I’ll pick up a Buffalo Chicken too._

***

When he walked into his apartment the first thing he noticed was that it smelled like a bakery--the next thing he noticed was laughter coming from the living room.

Locking the door behind him, Clive wandered to the kitchen, setting the pizza boxes on the countertop, where he discovered half of his tupperware were filled with cookies. _Damn, when she said she was going to bake,_ he opened up one of the containers and got an oatmeal cookie, then considered Liv and Serena who were currently dancing to _Kung Fu Fighting_. 

Once their scores popped up, Serena punched the air, cheering while Liv dropped, exhausted, to the couch. “I think it’s your turn,” Liv said, grinning. 

Clive hid a smirk. “Maybe after pizza,” he said, and Serena came over immediately, practically drooling over the pizza boxes. 

“Can I stay here forever?” Serena asked, handing Liv and Clive a plate from the cabinets before getting her own. 

He chuckled. “I take it Mom’s still on her health kick?” 

“Last week we had brussel sprout casserole,” she paused, eyes wide, “twice!” 

“What’s wrong with brussel sprouts?” Liv asked, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floor as she came into the kitchen. Clive met her amusement-filled gaze he paused, and for a split moment his chest ached with a bittersweet emotion he dared not consider. 

He recovered quickly, chuckling. “You haven’t had Mom’s cooking.” 

It was true; as much as he loved their mother, and as much as their mother loved to cook, there were only a handful of dishes that turned out well. Clive was fortunate that he learned how to cook from his grandmother. 

They loaded their plates with pizza and Liv retrieved a bottle of hot sauce from the fridge, adding it to her slices of buffalo chicken pizza. Clive got a couple bottles of beer for him and Liv, and a can of soda for Serena before heading back to the couch. 

He sat down with a quiet sigh, his muscles more sore from a tense day in court than if he’d been out in the field, and handed out the drinks. 

“Can I try some?” Serena asked, nodding at the bottle in his hand before popping the tab off her coca-cola. .

“You know the deal,” he said. “When you’re fifteen I’ll supervise.” It was a deal he’d made with her years ago. He knew that their parents had unrealistic expectations in terms of whether Serena would drink in high school or college, and while their parents would kill him if they found out he let her get drunk, he would feel better if she at least knew how it felt. 

He didn’t fault her for being curious now though. Having grown up in Brooklyn himself, he knew kids experienced most things sooner than they would in other parts of the country; most kids had their first drink of alcohol as young as fourteen, and the kids that were going to smoke pot regularly usually had a hook up by sixteen. 

Hell, even Clive had had his first drink when he was thirteen. 

Clive blinked out of his thoughts and flicked his attention between the television, currently showing the opening scene of Chucky, and Serena. He raised a brow. “Is this going to give you nightmares?” he asked. 

He suspected the answer already. Serena had never been afraid of movies or TV shows, as long as they didn’t depict clowns, but he still felt the urge to ask. “Nope,” she popped the ‘p’ and dug into her food again. 

Smirking, Clive settled back into the couch, idly paying attention to the movie. He’d watched it a handful of times already, and he was more entertained by Serena staring unblinkingly at the TV while Liv jumped at almost every jumpscare scene. 

He watched as his sister slowly lost her focus, her eyelids drooping a bit more as the movie went on, until eventually her head fell against Liv’s shoulder and she snored quietly. Absently, he gathered up their plates, murmuring to Liv, “You can keep watching, I’ve seen it before,” before taking their dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. While he was in the kitchen he retrieved a handful of cookies and returned to the couch, sitting on the other side of Serena. 

Thirty minutes later the credits started rolling and Clive debated on waking Serena or just picking her up and taking her to the guest room. 

His debate was short lived; if he were honest, he wanted to talk to Liv without the risk of Serena waking up and feigning sleep to eavesdrop on them. At least if she woke up and wandered out of the guest room they would hear the door open. 

So he scooped her up into his arms and carried her the short distance to the guest bedroom. 

When he returned one of his cookies was gone and his lips quirked in quiet amusement. “Thanks for watching her,” he said, settling next to Liv on the couch. 

She shrugged. “She’s a good kid.” A wry grin twisted her lips as she pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “She adores you.” 

He snorted softly. “When she was younger she’d follow me around all the time. It’s why I started calling her Shadow.” Distractedly, he picked up one of his cookies, turning it over in his hands as he let a wave of familiar concern wash over him. “I wish I was closer,” he admitted, brows furrowed. “Our parents have a tendency to see the best in everything, and they don’t always tell her the things she needs to hear. And she’s a good kid, but I’m worried about when she starts dating. Or if she doesn’t wait to drink until I’m around to watch her.” 

He felt Liv’s cool fingers on his forearm and a bit of his tension dissipated. “Clive, she looks up to you. I have a feeling she’d talk to you about anything important.” 

Clive shifted forward, grabbing another cookie from the coffee table before leaning back, letting his head drop against the back of the couch. “She’s changed a lot since I’ve seen her last. She didn’t used to wear all that make-up.” 

Liv laughed quietly. “Well I taught her a few subtler tricks.” 

“Good,” he muttered. “I barely recognized her at the airport.” 

“It’s normal for her age,” Liv smirked. “I went through that phase too.” 

Clive made an exasperated sound, turning his head slightly. “Did your brother ever get so involved in your love life, or is that a sister thing?” 

“Probably a sister thing,” Liv smiled uneasily. 

For a moment, Clive searched her face, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he considered whether he should even bring up Serena’s earlier text. Before he could overthink it, he dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the text message. “What is this?” he asked quietly, handing the phone to Liv with an arched brow. 

Panic flashed in her face and she started to bounce to her feet, presumably to pace or flee completely, but he reached out before she couch, catching her wrist.

“Liv, I haven’t read it.” Relief flickered in her bright blue eyes, and he repressed the temptation to add, _But I want to_. He gave her a moment to process whatever wheels were spinning in her head, then pressed on. “Why did Serena send this to me?” 

Liv took a breath and released it heavily. “Remember the librarian brain?” 

Clive nodded slowly. Grace LeGare, if he remembered correctly. Usually he purged the names of victims once their trial was over, but during that case Liv had been behaving especially strange. It had been the first time she’d shown any attraction toward him, and while at the time it had freaked him out, him being with Dale and all, it also made the case memorable. 

At the time he hadn’t been clued in on the whole zombie thing either, and that had been one of many cases that he reflected on later, finally understanding what the reason was for all the bizarre behavior changes. 

And then the realization hit.

Grace LeGare had been an erotica writer. 

Suddenly, he was unable to meet her gaze, his mouth dry and his lips parted as he tried to come up with something to say, but the only words that escaped were, “Oh hell.” The momentary heat low in his belly was gone the moment another thought flitted through his skull. “Please tell me she didn’t read this.” _Please tell me I don’t have to have that talk with her._

She held her hands up. “She said she didn’t,” but there was a pause, and Clive squeezed his eyes shut. 

“But?” 

“But she knew what it was about.”

Clive sighed. “Jay was supposed to have _that_ discussion with her.” 

The air between them was tangible as Liv avoided looking at him and he massaged his temples, dread spreading through his veins as he considered the uncomfortable conversation ahead of him. 

“What about your mom?” Liv asked finally. 

He shook his head, studying the ceiling. “She never had that discussion with me or Jay--something tells me she won’t have it with Serena either.” _And Serena needs that discussion more than we ever did._ Especially if the layers of makeup were anything to go by.

“Do you want me to talk to her?” Liv asked. 

_Yes_ , was his immediate thought, but Clive bit his cheek, hesitating. This wasn’t Liv’s issue. He should be able to sit down and have a difficult conversation with his sister. And yet any way he tried to imagine it, the conversation was a trainwreck. He frequently offered emotional counsel to his little sister, but Serena had always been squeamish when it came to sharing other things. When she’d started her period on a visit to the Bronx zoo, Clive had to threaten to take her to the medical facility at the zoo before she admitted that she’d started her period and didn’t have any pads with her. 

“I don’t mind.” 

And he gave in. “She’d probably listen if it came from you,” he admitted wearily. 

Liv smiled. “Whenever you want, I’ll talk to her.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said more to himself than to her, ignoring the heat that flooded his face when he realized what he said aloud. 

She squeezed his arm lightly. “We’re a team.”


	3. Birth Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, this chapter has explicit themes.

**Chapter Three**

The next morning did not greet Clive kindly.

He’d gotten out of bed a bit later than he usually would, even on his day off, but he knew better than to expect Serena to be up yet. And that was why when he went to the bathroom to shower he was surprised to find the door locked. 

It wasn’t until an hour passed and he’d ingested several cups of coffee that he suspected something was wrong and went to investigate, knocking on the bathroom door. “Serena?” he’d called out, a small frown pulling at his lips as he listened for some kind of response. When none came, he’d knocked again, earning a less than ideal response: “Leave me alone.” 

Uncertain what to do, Clive alternated between watching TV for twenty minutes, then knocking on the door before inevitably giving up and going back to the TV. 

At the two hour mark he’d convinced himself that Serena had done something terribly stupid and he threatened to kick down the door. His threat was met with a shrill shriek that that wasn’t necessary and she was totally fine. He’d repressed the temptation to point out that evidently everything was _not_ totally fine, or else she wouldn’t have locked herself in his apartment’s only bathroom for the past two hours. Although when he’d pointed out that he needed to use the bathroom, her response had been no less frustrating, and he’d ended up putting shoes on and going to the grocery store across the street. 

He’d hoped that when he got back Serena would have left the bathroom, resorting instead to lock herself in her bedroom, but he had no such luck. 

Clive went to the bathroom door, knuckles raised to knock for the seventh time that morning, but he hesitated when he heard her crying. He took a breath. “Would talking to Liv help?” 

As expected, he received no response, but his decision was made. He wasn’t getting anywhere by knocking every twenty minutes, so he walked far enough away from the bathroom that Serena wouldn’t hear his conversation with Liv and hit dial. 

“Clive? What’s up?” 

“Can you talk to Serena?” he asked, staring idly at the weather forecast on the TV screen. 

Liv was silent, and for an irrational moment he wondered if yet another person was going to refuse to talk to him. Then he heard shuffling on the other end, followed by the sharp clang of metal against a hard surface and he cursed himself under his breath. Of course she was at the morgue--he’d probably called her while her hands were in a body. “I don’t really feel comfortable giving her the sex talk over the phone,” she pointed out dryly. 

Clive sagged against the armrest of the couch, “She’s locked herself in the bathroom for the past two and a half hours. I can’t get her to come out.”

“And you think she’ll talk to me?” Liv asked, and he could hear the thinly concealed skepticism in her voice. 

“I think she needs to talk to a woman,” he admitted, rubbing his forehead as though he could fend off the looming headache.

There was another pause, followed by muted conversation in the background, presumably between Liv and Ravi. “Alright, can you give her the phone or do I need to call her cell?” 

Clive glanced at the closed bathroom door and sank to the couch. “I’ll text you her number. Thanks, Liv.”

***

“What’s going on?” Ravi asked, barely glancing up from his cup of tea.

Liv sighed. “I don’t know. Clive wanted me to talk to Serena, but she won’t pick up her phone.” She sank onto the couch in Ravi’s office, chewing her lower lip as she considered what she should do. “He said he thought she needed to talk to a woman.” 

Ravi tilted his head, glancing up from his computer screen. “Did she start her period?” he asked, and when Liv frowned, seeming puzzled by the idea, he fixed her with an incredulous look. “Really, Liv, why am I the one that thought about that?” 

“I started mine when I was nine,” she said a bit defensively, trying to ignore the foolish feeling in her chest as she got to her feet. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that Serena could have just started her period. “I should go talk to her.” 

“Have fun,” Ravi called out as she left the morgue, shooting a quick text to Clive.. 

11:13 AM, Liv: _Be there in ten minutes, stopping by the store first. ___ _ ___

____

***

What was supposed to be a ten minute trip ended up taking her nearly twenty minutes, but Liv finally parked her car alongside the street, heading up to Clive’s apartment with a brown paper bag with all the necessities. Well, assuming Serena _had_ just started her period.

With a breath, she raised her knuckles to knock, but before she could even finish her typical four-knock pattern the door swung open, revealing a tense and shockingly bed-raggled detective. 

Much like the first time Liv had shown up at his apartment, he wore a pair of dark basketball shorts that fell just below his knees, but in place of the Knick’s t-shirt, he wore an athletic tee that left little to the imagination in terms of definition. 

Her admiration was short lived as she looked over his shoulder, confirming that the bathroom door was still shut. “She wouldn’t answer my calls, so I had to assume,” she said, raising the bag and stepping inside. 

Clive offered a strained smile. “I have no idea what this is about,” he said, folding his arms over his chest as he wandered back to the couch, leaning against the back of it.

Liv exhaled slowly, following in tow. “Do you know if she’s had a period before?” She had expected some sign of discomfort with the topic, but Clive merely nodded, seemingly unfazed. 

“She started having them about a year and a half ago,” he told her, brows furrowed. 

Liv frowned. If it wasn’t her period then she had no idea what made the girl lock herself in the bathroom for so long. And based on things that Clive had said over the past couple of days, it sounded like she wasn’t dating anyone, so a break-up seemed unlikely. _No use delaying it,_ she thought. “I’d watch some TV if I were you,” she said, then went to knock on the bathroom door. 

“Go away!” Serena yelled from the other side, and Liv winced at the throatiness in the girl’s voice. There was no question that she’d been crying, likely for the better part of an hour. 

“Serena, it’s just me. Can I come in?” 

A moment passed and Liv strained to hear signs of movement on the other side, wondering absently if they would actually have to bust the door in, and then she heard a muffled sob. The doorknob turned and Liv slipped in, locking it behind her, more for Serena’s comfort than anything. 

When she turned to face the girl, her suspicions were confirmed in the puffiness of her cheeks and eyes. Serena still wore pajama pants, but there was a towel beneath her as she sat on the side of the tub, and a dark red stain in the crotch of the pants sent a wave of relief down Liv’s spine--at least if this was about an unexpected period, then she could help. God knows she had enough experience in that department. 

Moving slowly, Liv put the lid down on the toilet and sat down, taking one of Serena’s hands in her own. “It’s going to be just fine,” she said quietly. 

Another body-wracking sob escaped the smaller girl and fresh tears splattered down her cheeks, a few droplets hitting the back of Liv’s hand. “I think I’m pregnant,” she mumbled. 

Fear caused her stomach to plunge and Liv fought to keep her expression neutral, though she squeezed Serena’s hand a bit tighter. “Why,” but her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “Why do you think that?” 

Liv felt ridiculous asking the question, but she couldn’t wrap her head around everything yet. It looked like Serena was on her period, and yet she thought she was pregnant. While a part of her brain processed the nausea at the idea that Serena was sexually active, another part of her brain scrambled to recall her level of understanding of sex and babies when she was twelve. Was there any chance this was just a misunderstanding? 

_Clive is going to blame himself. ___

__The girl sniffled. _No, not girl. Woman,_ Liv thought with a repressed shudder. Considering Serena a girl or child only tightened the knot in her stomach, and it certainly wouldn’t help her deal with this. “This is my first period in three months. And my periods aren’t usually this heavy. Especially not on the first day.” _ _

__But if the red stain wasn’t period blood, then what else could it be? A miscarriage? “Okay,” Liv said after a moment, chewing on her cheek as she considered whether she should go get an at-home pregnancy test, or just calm Clive down enough to get drive them to a clinic. “So you’ve had sex then?” she asked gently, cringing nevertheless._ _

__Serena sobbed harder._ _

__Liv took a breath. “Serena, I...I need an answer.”_ _

__She nodded weakly, “Please don’t tell Clive.”_ _

__Silently, she cursed. The war of emotions tearing through her chest brought back memories of when she was twenty years old, but she shoved down the memory before it could dredge up any more inner turmoil, focusing instead on what she needed to do._ _

__If Serena really was pregnant, or having a miscarriage, then there was no way she could keep this from Clive. _Think, Liv. Did you even know how sex and babies worked when you were twelve? Is there any chance she’s confused?_ It was a desperate thought, but she clung to the possibility as she fixed Serena was a calm look. “Are you sure-” Liv broke off what she was going to say. Clearly Serena _thought_ she was sure, otherwise she wouldn’t have locked herself in her brother’s bathroom for the better part of the morning. The moments weighed heavily on Liv’s shoulders, and finally she sighed, electing for a more clinical approach. “Did your boyfriend ejaculate in you?” _ _

__“Yeah,” Serena hiccupped._ _

___Damn it._ _ _

__But Serena wasn’t done. “I swallowed it. I wasn’t thinking, and then it was done and--”_ _

__“So he never ejaculated in your vagina?” Liv interrupted, brows raised._ _

__She sat up a bit straighter, watching Liv carefully. “No.”_ _

__Liv hung her head in relief. “You’re not pregnant,” she breathed out, relief causing her lips to twist into a phantom of a smile. “You and your boyfriend had oral sex, not penetrative sex. You can’t get pregnant unless sperm goes near or in your vagina.”_ _

__And then a new wave of tears erupted and Serena wrapped her arms around Liv, face buried into her neck where tears slowly seeped into her shirt. “I’ve been convinced for the past two months that...I was going to go to the clinic, but I was too scared. And then Jason broke up with me.”_ _

__“Hey,” Liv rubbed slow circles on the girl’s back, “Anytime you have a question about this stuff, you can call me, okay?”_ _

__A hiccup was her response._ _

__Several minutes passed before Serena pulled back and wiped at her face, choking on a laugh. “Clive must be freaked out,” she worried her bottom lip, brows furrowed. “I just didn’t want him to find out and be disappointed.”_ _

__“Your brother loves you,” Liv said with a gentle smile, pushing down the wave of guilt in her chest as the image of Evan flickered in her mind’s eye. “He’ll always be there for you.”_ _

__“I know, I just,” she paused, searching for the right words. “Sometimes it feels like he’s the only one that doesn’t baby me too much. He treats me like I can make my own decisions, and our parents just pretend nothing bad exists.”_ _

__Uncertain what to say to that, Liv let silence lapse between them for a full minute before she leaned forward, forearms pressed against her knees. As much of a relief as it was to know that Serena wasn’t pregnant, there were more pressing issues now. “How old was Jason?”_ _

__“Fifteen,” she admitted, ducking her head._ _

__Liv winced. “He was three years older than you?”_ _

__“I told him I was fourteen,” Serena said, then huffed. “I know, it wasn’t my brightest idea.”_ _

___At least you know that now,_ she thought, wringing her hands together as she contemplated whether she would be overstepping her bounds with her next comment. _But what’s the alternative? Serena loses her childhood? Her future?_ _ _

__Liv grimaced. “Your brother will kill me for bringing this up, but going on a hormonal birth control could help regulate your periods,” she paused. It would also protect the girl if she decided to experiment more. “Do you think your parents would be open to that?”_ _

__Serena shrugged, “I’m not sure. I’ve never really talked to them about stuff like that.”_ _

__Chewing her lower lip, Liv sighed. “I’ll send you some links about your options. If you feel comfortable with it, you can talk to your family about it, or there should be a couple clinics around Brooklyn that can help you.” She hesitated, then sighed. “I’d really recommend talking to Clive about this,” Serena started to protest, but Liv went on. “I get it, he’s your brother. But he really does care. And I think you’d feel better about it all if you talked to him.”_ _

__Despite fixing Liv with a skeptical look, Serena nodded slowly. “I’ll think about it,” she promised._ _

__Liv smiled and wordlessly let herself out of the bathroom, slipping into the guest bedroom to pull out some clothes for the girl to change into. When she left the bathroom for the second time she headed straight for the guest bedroom, vaguely registering the shower start running._ _

__As she started to strip the blood-stained bedding, she nibbled her lower lip nervously. A part of her was fixated on the question of ethics--she had no doubt that Clive would be pissed at her for even suggesting birth control, but that was already done. There was no way she could change that, but sending Serena information would only reiterate that statement._ _

__With the bedding bundled up in her arms, Liv started to leave the guest bedroom, only to find Clive leaning against the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. “Is she okay?” he asked finally._ _

__Her expression softened as she walked towards him. “Serena is fine,” Liv reassured, shoving down the pang of guilt. “Where’s your washer?”_ _

____

***

Despite the exhaustion clinging to his bones, Clive was still up when Serena’s phone rang at 11 PM. After a moment of hesitance, he went to turn the volume off, but when he picked up her phone he saw ‘Mom’ on the caller ID and he answered it quietly. “Hey, Serena just went to sleep an hour ago.”

“Oops,” his mother laughed, and if Clive didn’t know better he would have sworn she was tipsy. “Is she doing okay? I got a weird text earlier today.” 

“Yeah, she’s fine now,” Clive leaned against the counter, clasping his bicep with one hand while the other pressed the phone to his ear. “Liv talked her through it.” 

“Liv. That’s the girl you keep mentioning.” 

Clive rolled his eyes. “Don’t get any ideas, Mom. Serena’s already trying to get us together.” 

“Alright, alright. I just called to tell Serena that Jay will pick her up at the airport, and then she’ll be staying with him for a few days.” 

“I’ll tell her in the morning,” he promised, and then the call disconnected and he was left staring at the screen, lips pursed as he considered his mother’s strange behavior. 

He quickly dismissed his concern and instead fiddled with the phone, attempting to turn the volume off when it _chirped_ in his hand, a text message from Liv popping up on the screen. 

10:58 PM, Liv: _Here’s some links for birth control._

In his chest, his heart skipped a beat and he blinked, reading over the message a second time to confirm that he had read it correctly. 

_Birth control?_ Clive hesitated, flicking his gaze from his sister’s phone to the closed guest bedroom door, then back again. He’d assumed it was just period issues--he’d been almost positive of that when Liv had stripped the bed and added hydrogen peroxide to the wash. 

Why was Liv sending his sister information about birth control?

_I’m being ridiculous. Liv would tell me if it was something important._ Or at least he wanted to believe that she would.

And yet he found himself opening the message, revealing three links, each in a separate text. He drew his lower lip between his teeth and debated whether he should open them, but with the ache of betrayal in his chest it was a losing battle. 

He tapped on the first link, bringing up an informational page about birth control pills. He quickly backed out and looked at the next two links, one for implants and one for IUDs, before setting the phone down again. 

A small flame of anger settled low in his stomach, and while a part of him thought he was overreacting, a larger part of him was fixated on the betrayal feeding the flame. 

What right did she have coaxing his sister into birth control? Serena wasn’t sexually active--she wasn’t even interested, was she? 

Surely she would have said something if she thought--or worse, knew--Serena was experimenting already. Liv knew that Clive and Jay were the ones teaching her the difficult stuff--the things that their parents just weren’t aware of, or didn’t know how to address. Just last night Clive had admitted to her that he was worried about this precise thing: Serena dating. Serena growing up. 

Serena getting in over her head. 

With a quiet curse, Clive dialed Liv’s number. 

Any other time he might have felt a little guilty calling this late, but at the moment he was too fixated on getting answers. The call went to voicemail and after a moment of hesitance he waited for the tone to leave a voicemail. “Hey Liv, call me.” 

He dropped the call after that, hoping that Liv would call sooner rather than later. 

It was nearly 2 AM by the time Clive gave up waiting for Liv to call him back--he was too angry to properly address this anyways. Waiting until he could talk to her in person tomorrow would give him time to calm down and evaluate whether he was being reasonable.

***

The next morning Clive was no calmer than he had been the night before--in fact, the lack of sleep had left him even grumpier. The sleep deprivation combined with a lack of morning coffee had left him damn near inhuman by the time Serena was ready to go to the station for the tour that he’d promised a couple days ago.

Mercifully, Serena chose not to comment on his tension, instead seeming content to hum along to the radio on their way to the station. 

He planned on having her stay at his desk while he went to talk to Liv, but when they walked into Seattle PD he realized they had hit shift change. Almost immediately, they crossed paths with Ravi. 

“Hey Clive,” Ravi said, then stopped, brows furrowed as he noticed Serena following a couple feet behind the detective. “Are you Serena?” he asked, grinning. “Liv’s been talking about you. I think she’s adopted you.” 

Clive bristled slightly. “Speaking of Liv,” he said quietly, catching the other man’s gaze. “Where is she?” 

“Sitting in on an interview with Cavanaugh,” Ravi answered with a frown. “Is something wrong?” 

“I just need to talk to her,” Clive said, and Ravi made a sweeping gesture. 

“Go ahead, I was just about to head out for a coffee,” he glanced at Serena and shrugged. “But I can hang out for a bit while you guys talk.” 

Clive pressed his lips together, nodding his gratitude before heading to the observation room. As he waited, he studied the back of Liv’s head, absently, noting the tension in her shoulders. Whereas she was usually relaxed when interviewing people with him, she seemed painfully rigid next to Cavanaugh, and despite the anger and betrayal still thrumming through his veins, erasing his more logical thought processes, a part of him questioned why she was so tense. 

Had Cavanaugh said something? 

It was well within the realm of possible--for as good as the man was at his job, he had a habit of saying things that got him in trouble. Especially with women. 

Clive smothered the protective urge almost as soon as it clawed its way up. Liv didn’t need his protection. _And apparently she doesn’t need your input before getting Serena on birth control_. 

He clenched his jaw, watching as Cavanaugh dismissed the sweaty man, then stood to leave, seeming not to care that Liv remained unmoving in her chair, save for glancing briefly at her phone. 

“Clive, I thought it was your day off.” 

“I just need to talk to Liv,” Clive explained briefly. 

Cavanaugh arched a brow, “Lover’s quarrel?” The other detective waited a moment, as though hoping his comment would earn some kind of acknowledgement, then he snorted and walked off. 

_I should have grabbed a cup of coffee first_ , Clive thought, slipping into the interview room only to find Liv was still waiting, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall. He considered the uncertainty in her face. 

“Ravi seems to think you’re pissed at me,” Liv said quietly, making an offhand gesture with her phone before slipping it back in her jacket pocket.

Rather than respond, he switched off the camera feed and closed the blinds. Once he was certain that nothing they said would be on record, he turned to face her again, leaning against the table with a sigh. “What happened yesterday?” he asked finally, keeping his tone measured. 

In place of an answer, Liv shook her head. “Did Serena talk to you?”

Clive grimaced. A part of him had hoped that she would have shown some ignorance to what he was asking. At least then he could convince himself that she didn’t consider whether sending Serena that information was right or wrong. “No, but I saw your texts,” he hesitated, brows pinched together as he considered his partner--his friend--and the woman he undeniably felt _something_ for. The complexity of what he felt for her added to the betrayal that swam in his veins. “Why are you sending my sister information on birth control?” 

He’d expected to see a flicker of remorse--or any indication that Liv had wanted to tell him--but instead she fixed him with an unimpressed stare. “Really, Clive? You went snooping through Serena’s phone?” 

“It wasn’t intentional,” he argued, but before he could expand Liv scoffed. 

“Sorry, I’m having a hard time understanding how you accidentally picked up your sister’s phone and opened text messages from me.” 

Frustration and exasperation made his voice rise. “Are you on teenage brain again?” he asked, and hurt flashed across her features. 

“As a matter of fact, no, but why don’t you talk a bit louder, hmm? Let the whole department know.” Liv pushed off the wall and moved so only a few feet separated them, pitching her voice lower. “What do you want to hear, Clive?” 

He spread his hands in a careless gesture. “I want to know why you’re trying to get my sister on birth control. She’s only twelve, Liv!” 

Liv shook her head, unwavering as she held his gaze. “Talk to her about it,” she said lowly, but he wasn’t having it. 

“I’m asking you,” he said, making a conscious effort to keep his voice down, but it slowly rose anyways. “I trusted you to talk to her because I thought if anything major was wrong, that you would tell me.” 

“I’m just trying to help your sister. I was hoping she’d talk to you on her own,” Liv pressed, and Clive let out a harsh breath, getting to his feet and pacing a few feet away. 

“What part of she’s twelve don’t you understand?” he asked, then spun on his heel. “She’s a child, for God’s sake. She’s a smart kid, but you can’t just wait for her to talk to me--” 

“Well she’s a child that’s just spent the past two months convinced that she was pregnant,” Liv interrupted sharply. 

And Clive’s blood ran cold. 

She separated the distance between them again and for a moment his lungs refused to work, his head still buzzing with that new bit of knowledge. “Is that what you want to hear?” she asked quietly. “I know she’s a child, Clive. She had oral sex with a boy--a fifteen year old boy--and thought she was pregnant.” 

“But…” anything he could have said was drowned out as Liv went on, tears making her eyes shine a bit brighter. 

“And yes, I sent her information on hormonal birth control because she hadn’t had a period in three months, and I know from experience that birth control can keep her cycles regular. I sent her the links precisely _because_ she’s a child, and shouldn’t have to spend every day wondering if she was going to be surprised by a period.” Liv took a breath and released it slowly. “And I would rather see her protected than faced with the decision of aborting an unwanted pregnancy, because, again, I _know_ what that’s like. That decision never stops haunting you, but I see enough of myself in her to suspect that she would make the same choice I made.” 

“Liv,” he said quietly, brows furrowed. He started to reach out, but she pulled out of his reach, turning her back to him. 

“She’s your sister; you’re allowed to be overprotective. You _should_ be overprotective, but nothing gives you the right to be an asshole about it. If you want her to trust you enough to talk to you, then you won’t do something like this again.” 

Once it seemed Liv was done yelling at him, Clive was left frozen, fingers biting into his forearms as he studied the back of her head. The soft sounds of her crying filled the space between them, but he didn’t feel right trying to comfort her. Not when he was the one that left her upset. 

Clive had barely processed everything Liv had told him when the guilt kicked in, but Liv had been quicker, all evidence of her sorrow tucked away when she turned to leave. “I need to talk to Cavanaugh,” she muttered, and Clive reached out, just catching her forearm. 

“Liv,” but she shrugged off his touch and opened the door. “I’m sorry,” Clive said softly, but she just walked out, letting the door close behind her and leaving him alone in the interview room. 

He waited a few minutes before leaving the room. A part of him wanted to make sure Liv had time to get to the morgue, or wherever she needed to be to avoid him, and another part was too busy beating himself up for being such an asshole. 

When he finally left, he found Cavanaugh waiting for him in the hallway. “I’d give it a day before trying to apologize,” the detective said, clapping Clive on the shoulder with an amused smirk. “And maybe next time go to the morgue to have a yelling match.”

Clive groaned. _I’m a goddamned idiot_. 

“Oh, and Ravi took your sister to get some coffee. She seemed pretty pissed off herself.” 

“Great,” he muttered, managing to slide by Devore’s office without notice. 

Sure enough, after walking a couple blocks to the street stand that Ravi and Liv preferred their coffee from, he found Ravi and Serena sitting on a bench. Ravi had Serena laughing about something, but her amusement dried up the moment she saw him. 

“Are you done being an asshat to Liv?” Serena asked in greeting, and Clive sighed. 

“Language.” 

“Fine, are you done being a massive jerk to your future girlfriend?” 

Ravi choked on his coffee and Clive wearily caught the other man’s gaze, shaking his head slightly. “I’ll apologize tomorrow,” the detective said quietly, then frowned. _If she’ll stand in the same room as me, even._


End file.
